Not a farm girl anymore
by AddictedToDowntonAbbey
Summary: Elsie Hughes reflects about her life after the second time she refused to marry Joe Burns, and is startled by a knock on the door. Hughes/Carson pairing eventually.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Though I've been reading fanfiction on this site for over a year, I've never written anything before, probably feeling that my skills couldn't compare to the real talent some people on here have. But I've been so crazy about Downton recently that this plot continued to nag me until I wrote it down, so here goes. I've planned this as a multi-chapter fic, obviously if anyone is interested. The first chapter is entirely from Elsie Hughes's POV, and the story starts after the events in episode 4 of season 1. Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, blah blah. **

After yet another tiresome argument with Mrs Patmore, over such a trivial matter as the key to the store cupboard, resulting in a throbbing headache on her part, it was no wonder that Elsie Hughes, housekeeper of Downton, could barely focus on her remaining tasks that day. Then again, that represented just part of the reason why she was so unfocused. Returning to her parlour in the evening, Elsie felt all the emotions she had tried hard to supress during the day enveloping her in full force now. Her thoughts invariably returned to the fair, to Joe Burns, and to everything that had happened recently.

She had agreed to meet Joe, and deep down she had been certain he would propose again, and maybe even pictured herself saying yes. But in the end, the answer had been different, because she was a different person now_**. 'I've changed'**_, she had told Carson. Oh, how she'd changed! But not only in the obvious ways, like the transition from farm girl to housekeeper; no, the greatest change had occurred in her heart. Joe Burns was '_still a nice man'_, but he wasn't the man she loved, so Elsie refused him once more, on the pretext that she didn't want to leave Downton. Or was it a pretext? Mrs Hughes genuinely wished to remain, but her motives went deeper than just her position in the household. She had been housekeeper for many years now, and in all honesty, it didn't bring her much satisfaction anymore. Her life revolved around a terrible routine, broken only by the occasional trouble caused by Thomas and O'Brien, which could hardly be considered an improvement to her day. In Elsie's case, no one could speak of attachment to the family, either. Granted, she did respect them, but her sentiments went no further than that. Why Charles was so fond of Lady Mary, for example, was incomprehensible to the Scotswoman. What about attachment to the rest of the staff, then? Well, yes, she could admit to that. Elsie liked Anna, especially given that the girl reminded her of a younger self, and sometimes treated William as if he were her son. And Charles…On a normal day, she wouldn't let her thoughts trail that way, but now, due to exhaustion, the woman had no power whatsoever to control the subject of her musings.

Charles Carson was her main reason for staying, truth be told. No one she knew understood her better than he did; no one could help her more than he did; no one made her feel the way he did. It was the little moments that mattered to Elsie: how Charles helped her reach items placed above her height whenever he happened to be around, how he always knew when she needed a glass of wine after a particularly demanding day, how he always scolded the other members of staff if they were gossiping about her, how he constantly assured her that she didn't look a day older than when they'd first met, despite the fact that she found new wrinkles and grey hairs every day by a simple glance at the mirror. Yes, she loved him; that is why her heart almost skipped a beat when the housekeeper thought she traced a hint of jealousy in his words after she'd explained she had agreed to see Joe again: _**'And he was horrible and fat and red-faced and you couldn't think what you ever saw in him.'**_ But then Elsie decided she was only fooling herself, that it couldn't have been jealousy, and that she would never have his love. Nevertheless, she stayed, content with having his friendship at least, giving up the chance of becoming Mrs Burns even though she knew she would never be Mrs Carson, regardless of how much she wanted to.

'_**It is Elsie, isn't it?'**_ When Joe had called her by her Christian name, it pained her to realise that she and Charles would never go past Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson. They would probably never dine together at the Grantham Arms, he would probably never win a doll for her, but Elsie Hughes's heart was still adamant to choose him over Joe Burns.

Sighing, the housekeeper stood up from the chair where she had been so lost in thought for the last half an hour, and went on to write replies to some of the letters she had received over the past week. After all, life goes on even when great decisions, bound to alter its course, are made. Just as she was finishing a reply, Elsie was startled by a loud knock on her door. Opening it, she was surprised to see the very man who had occupied most of her thoughts over the last few days standing in front of her. Although, maybe it would be more accurate to say 'most of her thoughts over the last few _**years**_', really.

**AN: Please review if you have the time. It would mean a lot to me. **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: A big than you to everyone who has read and/or reviewed so far, I wasn't expecting such a reaction. Well, here's chapter two now (Carson's POV this time). I hope you'll like it. **

**Disclaimer: I'm neither Lord Fellowes, nor an ITV representative, so it must mean I don't own any of the characters. **

Charles Carson, butler of Downton Abbey, was pacing back and forth in his pantry, unable to decide what to do next. It had been an odd week. First, the fair had come to Downton , which made everyone giddy and less productive than usual, affecting the standards he was so resolute to maintain. Then, it came as a surprise to him when Elsie declared she would be going as well-not because she considered her too uptight for such activities, but simply because she almost never went into the village without asking him to accompany her.

Nevertheless, the butler didn't dwell too much on that thought, that is until Thomas announced in the corridor, for everyone to hear, that he was right when he said Mrs Hughes _'was looking sparkly-eyed.'_ Charles hastened to reprimand him, but this time, it was not the footman's words that disturbed him, but the possibility of them being true.

Elsie could indeed have a suitor: she was beautiful and incredibly witty. He loved her Scottish accent, her ability to find a balance between the stern housekeeper and a mother-figure for the younger members of staff, her laugh (although he rarely heard it), her capacity to convey a lot through a simple glance, her gracious movements, accompanied by the sound of the keys she carried at her waist…He loved her.

After decades of being co-workers and then friends, Charles had gotten so used to the housekeeper's presence that it was impossible for him to imagine a situation when she wouldn't be by his side at Downton. Yet that situation seemed so very close to reality recently, and it made him excessively miserable. For him it was the last straw when she said she wanted to have a word_. 'This is it'_ he thought. _'I just came here to tell her what candlesticks I've chosen for tonight and now she is going to tell me she's leaving.'_ When he sat down, Charles felt as if he would soon experience the greatest loss of his life.

Just as he suspected, she started talking about her farmer. Directly to the point…her straightforwardness and no-nonsense attitude were other things he loved about her. He couldn't take it anymore; his jealousy got the better of him and made him express his hopes out loud:hopes of Joe Burns being old, ugly and unlovable. His heart sank when Elsie contradicted him, firmly stating that Joe was still a nice man. From that moment on, Charles felt he had lost everything, and therefore had nothing more to lose by asking the question that had been torturing him: **'And he proposed again and you accepted?' **

Dreading the answer, the man thought he misunderstood Elsie's reply. But the look on her face made him realise it was true: she hadn't accepted. She wasn't leaving Downton. If he were younger and more foolish, he would have jumped out of his chair and wrapped his arms around the woman he loved, but his present reticence prevented him from doing so. However, the sadness in her eyes haunted him for the rest of the day, and increased his wish to comfort her.

By now, she would have finished all her chores and could probably be found in her parlour, unless she had decided to retreat in her room early. Charles eventually had to admit he couldn't possibly go to bed himself without telling her what was on his mind, and made his way to her parlour. He could see that the lights were on, therefore she was definitely in. Knocking hesitantly at first, he received no reply, so he knocked louder the second time, and the door opened slowly.

He could tell he had startled her, but was unable to say anything. The speech he had prepared in his head was suddenly lost to him. They were standing very close to each other and she was breathtakingly beautiful. She had always been beautiful to him, but the thought of losing her had intensified everything for him, including her features.

The butler had probably been staring at the housekeeper for quite a while when she finally cleared her throat and spoke. **'Err…Mr Carson, is something wrong? Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?'** She looked at him expectantly. He entered, closed the door and sat down, forgetting to mention whether he wanted tea or not.

'**I just…wanted to say that I for one am very glad you're staying. Downton wouldn't be the same without you.'** _I wouldn't be the same without you…_he thought of adding, but his words had already sounded selfish enough, in his opinion.

'**Oh, I think Downton would manage very well without me.'** she sighed. Now that just wasn't true! **'Mrs Patmore and Miss O'Brien would have free reign, resulting in disaster, no doubt. The young ones would have no one to look up to, Thomas would be more arrogant than ever. And I…I would be terribly lonely. I'd miss you.'**

**AN: Please make my bad week a bit happier by leaving a review. **


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I feel awful about not updating sooner, but I've been really busy (My trademark excuse, but true nevertheless). I hope this chapter can make up for it, and I'm very grateful to everyone who has read, reviewed, subscribed and favourited this story so far. Thank you! **

**Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. If they were, I'd make sure they got the happiness they deserve. **

While taking another sip of her tea, Mrs Hughes glanced furtively at the dear man in front of her, who had just admitted that he would miss her quite a lot if she ever were to leave. Would he miss her as a friend, or perhaps as something more?

Just then, it occurred to Elsie that she was over fifty, and therefore half of her life was likely over. Upon looking back at those fifty years, she would see herself slowly but determinedly reaching the highest position her social background permitted, and it filled her with a sense of accomplishment and pride.

However, she could hardly see any love. As a child, she had always been cared for, but not given much attention, since her parents had been very busy working on the farm. She had friends, but barely kept in touch with them via letters since entering service. A few flings in her youth didn't count as love, and the only constant presence in her life that made her feel cherished was Charles.

This conclusion made her realise that if she wanted her remaining years to be different, she couldn't afford to waste time overthinking things. It didn't matter if Charles would miss her as a friend or as something more, it simply mattered that he would.

They had both been silent for some time when she finally spoke up, addressing Charles, but looking sideways, seemingly focusing her attention on an empty vase on her table. **'Do you know what Joe told me when I refused him the day before?'**

Mr Carson was surprised by the direction where their discussion was heading. He didn't care much about what that insufferable farmer had said to his Elsie. In reality, she might belong to someone else or no one at all, but in his mind she would forever be his. So what could that Joe Burns have told her? Probably declared his everlasting love for her, Charles thought bitterly, only because he himself hadn't gathered enough courage to do so.

The housekeeper continued, not really expecting to receive an answer from Charles. **'He told me he thought there must be someone else. I've dismissed the thought as ridiculous, but the more I considered it since, the more I believe he was-is, in fact, right. There ****is**** someone else.'** She finished, eyeing him directly to gauge his reaction.

Goodness! He had just recovered from the shock he had at the possibility of her marrying Joe Burns and leaving Downton, and now this! Charles was devastated, but tried hard not to show it. However, his face changed colour and his eyebrows shot up regardless of his efforts. Someone else? Who could it be? The butler thought hard for an answer. Maybe Dr Clarkson? He was witty and handsome, but clearly unworthy of this perfect woman in front of him. It couldn't be Bates, because Elsie would respect Anna, no doubt, and every soul in the household knew that the head housemaid and the valet were quite enamoured with each other. Lord Grantham perhaps?

Before Mr Carson could reach any more wild conclusions, Mrs Hughes spoke again, but in a more nervous voice this time **'And I've resolved to tell him how I feel. Tonight.'**

That was it. He couldn't take it any longer. '**Whoever he is, Mrs Hughes, he should be aware that being loved by you makes him the luckiest man in the world.'** Carson said, standing up and getting ready to make his excuses before retiring for the night, certain that he had lost his battle and was condemned to a life without Elsie.

After those words, spoken in the most heart-breaking of tones, the woman in question had no more doubts that the man she loved returned her feelings. But just as she realised that, the butler darted to the door, wearing the saddest expression she had ever seen on his face.

Thinking quickly, Elsie rushed after him, grabbing his elbow just as he was about to exit her parlour. She tried with all her might to turn him to face her, and before he could say anything, she stood on her tiptoes, reaching up to kiss him squarely on the mouth. '**It's you, Charles. I love you.'** The housekeeper added, as a way of explanation.

Taking a few seconds to process what had just happened, Charles finally gathered her in his arms, holding her waist tightly, and buried his face in her hair, whispering how wrong he had been, thinking that nothing good could come out of that particular day, and instead, it had altered the course of his life. In the best possible way.

**AN: A good a place as any to end this, but I still have plans for one more chapter. What do you think? **


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Here goes: the final chapter! I'm not entirely pleased with it, but it's the best I could come up with. I hope you'll like it anyway and thank you for sticking with this story until the end. **

**Disclaimers: I've been using them for the last 4 chapters but these characters are, sadly, not mine. **

That is how it all began. From then on, nothing could bring them apart. They kept their relationship secret; no one knew, but sometimes, it felt as everyone knew. None of the Crawleys ever questioned the butler and housekeeper's motives of requesting the same days off, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. When William died, during the Great War, Sarah O'Brien walked in on them as Charles was holding Elsie in his arms for comfort, but the lady's maid showed no signs of being surprised, and definitely didn't find that scandalous enough to be worthy of her spreading gossip.

Then again, hiding their feelings in public was the only appropriate course of action, no matter how much each of them wanted the whole world to know they were in love. Yet Elsie secretly wished that just for once, at Christmas, Charles could dance with her first, and not Lady Violet,the old bat, as she always referred to her in her mind. Charles wished he could have told Lady Mary the real reason why he was adamant about staying at Downton instead of moving away with her. Charles and Elsie both wished they could stop pretending and call each other by their first names in front of the staff as well, not only in private. But they were grateful, nevertheless, for each day spent together.

Christmas at Downton in 1918, the first one after the war, was bound to be very special for the Crawleys. Lady Sybil was returning home, but only to marry Branson in front of her whole family. The staff were all incredibly busy with preparations for both Christmas and the wedding at the same time. Those days, it was not uncommon for O'Brien to mutter something along the lines of **'She bloody 'as to get married at Christmas'**, and Elsie could not blame her, for once, but hoped Charles wouldn't hear that, for the lady's maid's sake.

However, despite the fact that there was so much to do, the end of the war made everyone feel more cheerful and light, so there was quite a pleasant atmosphere at Downton. Nodding in approval after inspecting the dining room were the family would be gathering in a few hours for their Christmas dinner/wedding celebration, Charles left the room and headed upstairs to see if everything was going smoothly as far as the bride was concerned. Anna and Mrs Hughes were helping Lady Sybil get ready, so there should be no problems. The door to the youngest daughter's room was slightly ajar, and Charles could hear the three women talking.

He was not one to listen at people's doors, but Anna had just asked Lady Sybil if she was nervous, and Charles wanted to make sure the girl was certain about the wedding. After all, he had known the Crawley sisters since they had been born, and had grown very fond of them over the years. He wanted Lady Sybil to be happy, although he had always thought Lady Mary would be the one to get married first.

'**Why would I be nervous? This is what I want. What every woman wants.'** came Sybil's prompt reply. Just then, Mrs Hughes let out a deep sigh, and Charles was suddenly aware of what he needed to do. The idea had always been there, but never presented itself to him as clear as it did now. Very convinced, he headed back downstairs.

The wedding and dinner turned out rather well, with some exceptions of course, such as Lady Violet reminding everyone what social class Sybil's new husband belonged to, but overall everything was a success. As soon as the music started to play, Charles left what he was doing and walked across the room, looking directly at Elsie. Taking the housekeeper's hands in his, he asked her to dance, and she could only nod, speechless on this occasion. The Dowager Countess coughed indignantly, but the pair didn't care; they didn't even notice the people around them anymore. Charles leaned his head close to Elsie's ear and whispered: **'Have you heard that Mrs Denver's children are taking her to Leeds with them and selling her house and teashop in the village? '**

'**Dear me. Here I was, thinking you were about to whisper some sweet nonsense and then you go on and talk about old Mrs Denver.'** Elsie chuckled. But Charles remained serious. **'Just humour me.'** he told her, and Elsie smiled at him, letting him know he had her full attention. Her eyes widened considerably at his next words: **'We are going to buy the house and shop, and move there. After we get married, of course.' **

There was a whole lot of certainty behind his words, a certainty Charles Carson had desperately lacked a few years ago. Normally, Elsie did not accept other people to make decisions for her, but for this particular decision, she only loved Charles more, if that was possible. Snuggling closer to him, she rested her head on his shoulder, without saying a single word in reply. There was no need.

**AN: My first fic is ready, whoa! I'd love it if you could tell me what you've thought of it in general and this last chapter in particular. I'll probably venture and write something new once my Christmas vacation begins**.


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